A great opera reduced to a comedy of errors

DANIEL Kramer’s new production of Carmen by Opera North was bitterly disappointing. The activities on the stage, often bizarre, caused such distraction that the music and singing almost got lost in the process.

Having seen Carmen twice when it was set in Spain with all the colour, passion and pride of the Spanish bullfighter, it was a banal alternative to be transplanted to a small town called Seville somewhere in America, where an unpleasant atmosphere of lechery and intimidation prevailed. Everything had to be made to fit in with the changed location, leading to inconsistencies.

Escamillo, no longer a bullfighter, became a trainer of a fighting bull terrier, a placid looking dog, whose only semblance of fierceness was his muzzle. This bordered on absurdity but when Escamillo poured a bottle of tomato ketchup over a girl, rubbing it into her T-shirt whereupon she writhed in ecstasy, it degenerated into farce. There were many anomalies, perhaps the most glaring being wedding guests clad only in their white underwear and two girls pulling suitcases on wheels in a remote forest.

No sign of passion existed between Carmen and Jose, rendering the plot unbelievable, but sexual images abounded, ranging from lewd and crude to downright vulgar. Often these were apropos of nothing more than the desire to shock. To discover that opera has now embraced society’s obsession with sex is deeply depressing and disturbing. The best part of this fatally-flawed production was when Carmen and Jose were alone and there was nothing to distract the eye. Then their singing took centre stage and Bizet’s wonderful opera became recognisable.

Sadly, this travesty of Carmen did nothing to encourage my family to become opera goers which has been my hope and intent.